Wheels in Motion
by civilian-identities
Summary: Ten years ago, following a horrific accident, Danny Phantom vanished without a trace. Too bad the dead can never quite remain dead in Amity Park, though. No, nothing is ever as simple as that.
1. Prologue

**Wheels in Motion**

**Summary: **As a protector, he held very little leeway. His duty, after all, was simply to protect. He had no power, just the responsibility to protect. Which, contrary to the beliefs of the Association, was all the power he needed.

**Disclaimer: **I, Inky Perspective, make no claims to the rights of _Danny Phantom_. Nor do I have any desire to, as I am content with merely exploring the worlds and scenarios in which the characters reside in.

**Prologue:**

Her fingers twitched as she watched the pencil roll down the desk, as though it were held in a case of permanent slow motion. From across the room she could hear the sound of a beaker breaking over the shrill shouting of her lab partner as the beaker shattered on the linoleum floor. Out of the corner of her eye, she could see Tucker Foley rushing to get the teacher, inevitably stumbling into at least two desks and one lab station, his shoe lace getting snagged on an open backpack. She could feel her lab partner, Danny Fenton, tugging on her sleeve, attempting to draw her attention to the impending chaos. Inhaling slowly, she could smell the fumes of the gases that had been left alone for far too long in the distraction the dropped beaker had caused.

She briefly wondered if she should mention to Danny that she had seen Connor Ambrose slip a reactant - of what, she couldn't be certain - into one of the beakers, causing a toxin to unfurl in dark clouds.

As she opened her mouth to speak, mere seconds too late, there was a flash of light; the screams of her classmates followed a heartbeat later.

The city of Amity Park, Indiana mourned the loss of classroom five-oh-five the following week. The health report claimed of an unidentified toxin originating in the classroom. By the time anyone would have noticed it, they said, it would have already been too late: They had already inhaled the contaminant. Some health officials even dared to suggest that it had probably been merciful that the realization had not come until too late. At the cost of their lives, the students and lone administrator had ultimately saved the rest of the building; had they opened the door, the toxin could have spread, contaminating everyone else in the school.

In their deaths, the students of second period chemistry at Casper High School, room five hundred and five, were heroes.

Eventually, though, time passed - as it always does - and the citizens of Amity began to recover. Families mourned, some moved away while others gradually began to heal. Months passed - years - and it wasn't long before the event was just a distant memory, a scar, on the history of Amity Park.

If only the health officials knew that the toxin wasn't an accident, that a student brewed the chemical the night prior and waited for the opportune moment to release it; if they had known that someone had seen the poison when there was still time - that Valerie Gray had chosen to wait a moment and, in those brief seconds, tampered with the fates of her peers. If only the officials had realized that the students of room five-oh-five weren't, in fact, truly dead.

No, nothing is ever as simple as that.


	2. Chapter One

**Chapter One:**

_Nine Years, Eleven Months, and Four Days Later_

The snow crunched beneath his boots as he quickly made his way through the deserted streets. The sun was beginning to rise and he exhaled; his breath fogging out in front of him, as he glanced down at his watch. It really would not do to be late.

Again.

The wind picked up, stronger this time, and he suppressed the chill that was aching to run down his spine. Shoving his hands in his pockets, teeth chattering, he quickened his pace. As he walked, he encountered a patch of ice, sliding across it, before managing to correct himself. As a child he had adored the snow; spending hours in the cold, only coming in when his cheeks were a rosy red, his hands chilled. His clothes would be covered with white flakes, and his mother was constantly scolding him for trekking the water onto her carpet. There had always been something so pure about snow, so innocent, that had fascinated him, though. Even as a child he had realized the potential of the frozen water. It had the ability to wipe everything away; to coat the world in something new, hiding away all the evil. If only for a little while, at least.

As he carefully stepped over a patch of dark snow, he shuddered. He had been a foolish child then. So naive, so hopeful. Hope was for those with time; those with opportunities at hand. Danny, though, didn't have time to question orders, didn't have time to dream of different days. Days of innocence, days of youth...

He jumped as a car passed by, the speeding headlights blinding his sensitive eyes.

The small apartment, located above a popular coffee shop, was looming ahead. The sun was bouncing its reflection off the snow, creating a mirage of colors that hurt his eyes. It figured that he would have forgotten his sunglasses, too.

He didn't bother knocking when he reached the apartment. He let himself in, brushing the flakes off his clothing.

"You're late."

He grit his teeth in annoyance. "I'm sorry."

The girl snorted behind him, "Leave your coat on the table, Danny. Theo's waiting."

Daniel Fenton trailed behind her, his hands shoved in his pockets, inspecting her. Valerie Gray had been serving as the Protector for the last two weeks, providing the much needed relief for Danny. Ever since the Incident occurred, nearly ten years ago, the pair had been the designated Protectors, charged with keeping their Master safe from any potential threats such as

_(themselves)_

outsiders eager to understand his abilities.

"You don't look so great, Val," he said, his eyes narrowed. When they were in high school, Valerie had always been rather pretty. She wasn't gorgeous in the conventional sense or popular, no, but Danny had always had a bit of a weak spot when it came to Valerie, even if it meant life or limb.

It had been a long time since high school.

Three months ago she had finally snapped, cutting her hair off in an eschewed fashion. Her skin had gradually paled, taking on a sickly tint, and she had drastically started losing weight. Sometimes Danny wondered if she was even eating anymore. Or sleeping, for that matter.

Her eyes were probably the biggest change, though. Once, they had been a brilliant green, sparkling with curiosity and a desire to learn. Today they were willed with a deep depression – exhaustion – that sent chills down his spine.

He would never admit it to her, of course, but he was worried about her.

"I'm fine, Fenton," she said automatically, her tone brisk. "Why were you late?"

He sighed, running a hand through his messy hair. "I overslept," he said simply, pulling the gloves off his hands. "My alarm wasn't working."

Valerie nodded, sidestepping her partner, her voice soft, "Hopefully the alarm clocks here are more beneficial. Lukas doesn't appreciate tardiness."

Danny bristled at her apathetic tone, her undeniable admiration for the man that had only caused pain and destruction. Did she honestly think him to be unaware of Lukas's tendencies - his impatience, his brutality, his rejection of failure? He frowned, watching as she made her way to the door, grabbing a jacket from the back of a chair.

"Have a good week, Val," he called, as she pulled the door ajar. She paused, turning back to him, an ethereal smile on her face.

"You too, Danny."

Turning away from the sickly girl, Danny braced himself, squaring his shoulders. He spared a quick glance down at his watch, exhaling nervously. It was impossible to forget how daunting his Master's presence was (no matter how accustomed Danny became to his position, the penetrating eyes of his Master would permanently haunt his dreams), but over the past two weeks, Danny had been blessed with a temporary sense of euphoria; a minute grasp of relief from the exhaustion. As a Protector, though, escape was but a passing fancy: There was no quick fix, no alternate decision, only a short-lived hiatus.

Danny had been initiated into the Association when he was sixteen. If you asked him (no one had) it was singlehandedly the worst day of his life. It had been a rather ordinary day in the beginning – a day like any other. There was a light drizzle, a subdued tone throughout the school; after all, it was a Monday, and _nothing _ever happened on Monday's. He had entered his second period, Chemistry, in a rather jubilant mood after Sam Manson had _finally _agreed to a date only five minutes before the bell. He had listened to the brief lecture before making his way over to his lab station, greeting his partner, Valerie Gray, with a grin.

Only twenty minutes later, everything as he knew it was destroyed in a blink.

Connor Ambrose had managed to slip something – even ten years later, Danny still wasn't entirely sure _what _– into one of the chemical concoctions. In the following five minutes, the classroom descended into chaos before a definitive darkness fell upon them all.

When Danny regained consciousness, he had found himself in a dark room, the scent of mold tangible in the air. His classmates surrounded him, all in various states of disarray. Beside him lay Valerie, her hand clutching his tightly. He had squeezed it reassuringly (or what he hoped passed for reassurance), whispering soothing words to her. Hours passed before the students of room five-oh-five were released from the damp cellar. The twenty-four individuals had climbed a set of stairs, exhausted, before finally emerging from a pantry into a kitchen; a kitchen that smelled comfortably of ginger bread cookies and apple cider, much to the student's confusion. They would later discover that the incident had been staged, exact replicas of their bodies, disturbing as it was, were placed in the classroom, disfigured and, essentially, dead. They were told that the chemical Connor Ambrose had brewed had served as not just a decoy, but also a method of transport.

Once seated, the students were informed of their position: They had been chosen to serve as the new recruits for a group known simply as the Association. They were told the basics, assigned their responsibilities and partners, given a set of simple instructions, and sent on their merry ways. Little explanation was given, no excessive information: Just the straightforward facts.

As the days passed and the students grew accustomed to their positions (Danny, a Guard), they grew more informed. The Association was a small organization of men and women serving an overarching Master, a man who went by the inconspicuous name of Lukas Norton. A Master with a plan, a plan that would one day seemingly save the present state of humanity. The brighter students came to infer that even those further up in the hierarchy than themselves still knew very little; they had been chosen, like the students themselves, for the Association, and subsequently served the group, striving for a promotion.

A promotion to the Wheel.

The obscurely named Wheel served as the established boundaries of the organization, each role serving a purpose for the greater _good _of the Association, of humanity. Each position was held with reverence, performing their respective duties to protect the center of the Wheel: the Master, Lukas Norton.

When Danny first discovered the Wheel he had scoffed, rolling his eyes at the primitive simplicity of the whole society. After all, what was the _point_? Every ten years new batches of recruits were gathered to ultimately make up the spindles of the Wheel. The rest, the underlings, were the muscle that kept the Wheel safe; the brute force that kept the balance and retained the order. And the cycle would continue to repeat, as it had for the last six generations. New ideas would be contributed, of course, as the Wheel expanded; however the positions were so rare, so exceptional, few dared to speak up and face the subsequent expulsion (or, in some cases, execution).

As a Protector, one of the spokes on the Wheel, Danny held very little leeway with the other Members. His duty, after all, was simply to protect. Sustaining the Master's life was the only objective; he was the muscle, not the brains, in the scenario. He remained quiet at Council meetings, seething silently in his chair. He had no power, just the responsibility to protect it.

This, contrary to the beliefs of the Wheel, was all the power he needed.

"Fenton!"

He looked up, a dour smile on his face as his eyes fell on his friend and benefactor, Theodore Bardell. The large beef of a man smiled at him, his dark eyes unreadable.

"Theo; I trust everything ran smoothly in my absence."

"That's exactly what we need to discuss, Fenton. The situation has grown dire..."

And so Danny nodded along, murmuring agreements as his companion spoke, the cogs in his mind already beginning to turn...

**Author's Note:** So this is a relatively short chapter that pretty much just serves as exposition; following this point things begin to take a little twist. I would like to note that this is an AU fic. It retains pretty much the entirety of the show's canon, but takes a turn a little bit before Phantom Planet. So as far as this fic is concerned, no one knows Danny's (or Vlad's, I suppose) secret identity. Also it's important to note that there will be some OCs along the way. Don't get me wrong, they're not "game changers" or Mary-Sue self-inserts, but there will be a couple minor ones. If this does bother you, you might want to turn back. But even if you're not too fond of them, you could still give the rest of the fic a try. I promise, they're not overbearing!

Thanks to **Fluehatraya**, **RumorPhantom1412**, **Codiak**, and **Oak Leaf Ninja** for their reviews! They definitely made my night! :)

Thanks for reading and please don't forget to review! Also, if anyone is interested in Beta-ing this, I would greatly appreciate it. Just drop me a PM or comment in the review. :)

See you next chapter,

- Inky Perspective


	3. Chapter Two

**Chapter Two:**

"_Because that is how tyranny is started; with people being apathetic and taking the easy route and suddenly finding themselves in deep trouble." – JK Rowling_

Star Wilson closed the door behind her, heaving an exasperated sigh. Glancing around her, she wearily stepped towards the curtains, quickly glancing outside, before pulling them closed.

"Val? Are you home?"

She was met with resounding silence. With a role of her eyes, she dropped her coat onto the nearby chair. Valerie was becoming predictable. If Star was a betting woman - something she'd sworn off long ago - she would place money on the fact that Valerie, more likely than not, was still lurking at headquarters.

Star continued to make her way through the small apartment, a frown marring her features. Since May, it seemed that Valerie had gradually been spiraling downhill. She had been the first to adjust when they had first entered the Association; quickly cuttinh her ties with the real world - something that even Danny Fenton had only recently accomplished. It wasn't healthy, but Star had written it off as Valerie's own method of adjusting; it wasn't easy, but for some individuals, it might simply be less painful.

Now Star wasn't so sure.

The two roommates had known each other since childhood. They had never been particularly close; at least not prior to their induction into the Association. The two had been assigned the same apartment and had slowly built their friendship back up. (A much simpler task without the complication known as Paulina.) One thing had always been very clear, though: Valerie was incredibly competitive. In their early days in the Association, she had quickly ascended into the ranks of Protector: a position she cherished. Star had watched her flat-mate compete viciously to retain her role in the Wheel, whilst Star herself chose to remain in her humble position as Guard.

A leadership position had never been in the cards for Star, something she had known and appreciated since the days of playgrounds and Barbie dolls. She was a follower, simple as that; whether it be following Paulina Sanchez around all day or comparatively taking orders from the once upon a time loser, Danny Fenton. Besides, the role of Guard was a respected position, after all; one Star was content to remain in.

Her eyes darted to the clock resting on the wall. She knew Danny Fenton had just returned to his position, replacing Val for the following two weeks. Star knew better than to disturb him during his shift, but she knew that Val probably wouldn't answer her phone...

Grumbling under her breath, Star grabbed her coat, heading towards the door. Valerie should know better than to wander off on the way home, especially _here._

With Casper High School only mere miles away, it was too risky for the junior members of the Association to risk being seen by the locals. Star was fairly certain that their former associates in Amity Park would react rather poorly to a visit from the walking dead. Even in a town accustomed to ghost activity, hoards of dead students were sure to put the citizens on edge.

When they had first returned to Amity Park, cutting across Star's former street, she had been tempted to run. She had stopped, considered fleeing, her eyes falling on the small brick house she knew and loved dearly. She had gazed at the home, willing her feet to move...

...But she couldn't bring herself to take the step forward; the step that would shatter the slow rehabilitation her family had established. She couldn't do that to them - condemn them to this fate.

Despite the frigid cold outside, Star began her walk down the street she had previously traveled, her scarf tucked tightly around her neck, blocking her face from not only the chill, but also any familiar pedestrians.

Moments later, as she rounded the corner, she was filled with relief.

"Fenton!"

The aforementioned man glanced up, smiling. "Hey, Star. Is there something I can help you with?" He was so cordial, so polite; the teachings of the Association engrained into his behavior.

"Have you seen Val? I know that she was supposed to get off duty today, but she's not home yet."

Fenton pursed his lips, his forehead creasing. "No, she left headquarters a little over an hour ago. She should have been home by now. Maybe she stopped for breakfast?" he suggested, running a hand through his dark hair.

"Val rarely eats anymore, let only stop for breakfast," Star grumbled, concern lilting her tone. "Besides, she knows better than to run around Amity in the daylight. What if she's seen?"

The man standing across from her sighed. "I don't know what to tell you, Star. I'll let you know if I see her, but I really have to get back to work. Theo has a meeting in a half an hour and I promised I'd be there for it."

She opened her mouth to speak, reconsidered her words, and began again, "Wait? _You're _monitoring Theo? Isn't that what the Guards are for?"

"All the others are either on other assignments or off duty. Lukas is out touring, looking for the new recruits. Most of the security is with him," he answered. "Besides, I needed to get out of Headquarters."

She chuckled. "You only just got back in," she reminded him. "Already that eager to get out?"

He smiled weakly, "You have no idea."

The small smile still gracing his lips, he shoved his hands into his pockets. "I really should be going, Star. Good luck with finding Val," he said softly.

She murmured a quiet thanks, raising her hand in silent farewell. She watched, dejected, as he turned and made his way in the opposite direction, his shoulders slouched. She frowned, moving to follow him - to continue her search, before pausing. If Valerie wanted to get lost, to tarnish her reputation in the Association, then who was she to stop her? Perhaps it would actually do her some good to get knocked down a few pegs, to be properly refuted. Maybe it would get her to relax; to narrow down her obsession, and to realize that even she was not perfect.

She sighed. In all likelihood, such tarnish on her reputation would have the opposite effect. Star let out a yawn, bringing her hand to cover her mouth. It was far too early to be worrying about Valerie's escapades, and she had been awake all night. Her eyes fell on Fenton's retreating form, a sudden bout of inspiration hitting her.

"Fenton!"

He paused, turning around, looking at her expectantly.

"You said that all of the Guards were protecting Lukas. Where is he? He rarely leaves Headquarters?"

He looked at her, his face somber. "It's been ten years, Star. It's time."

She looked at him, raising a brow in confusion. "Time?" she asked. "Time for what?"

"The new batch of recruits," he said sadly. "He'll be touring the state for a few weeks. Then, in a fore night, the decision will be announced and the preparations made."

Her eyes widened, her hand covering her mouth in surprise.

"They're going to do it all again?" she asked in horror. "More kids will have to go through what we went through?"

He nodded somberly, "And it's not just that. With new recruits, there's more competition. Positions will suddenly become far less stable. New recruits, easy to rise into the ranks, will be vicious - you remember Val's behavior, right? If I had to guess, I'd imagine that's what she's doing now. Attempting to remind Lukas that she deserves to keep her position."

"That means you, too, could be demoted," she reminded him. It was not a pleasant thought. Danny was far too serious at times, difficult to communicate with. He was sensible, though. He knew how to properly get the job done without letting politics get the better of him. Another mindless drone was certainly not what the Association needed on the Wheel.

"Potentially," he agreed. "No one's positions are safe. Which means the Wheel will be even more flexible. No one will dare speak out; no one will question Lukas's authority when it means they could be demoted. Nothing will get accomplished."

She nodded, her eyes wide. She had seen it all before. When their group, the Junior members, entered the Association, their superiors had been scrambling to retain their positions. After the first two years, only a handful of Seniors had remained on the Wheel, quickly replaced with the younger members. Star was good friends with a former Professor, Olivia Cross.

Olivia had been an esteemed member of the Association, a Professor - one of the most competitive positions on the Wheel, second only to the Advisers (a position Theo Bardell had managed to successfully retain for more than three generations, to everyone's astonishment). She had been in charge of training the new recruits, establishing the curriculum. She was the brains of the operation, conniving schemes and plans, working quickly under pressure. Olivia was a respected member of the Wheel; some even dared to assume that she would be Theo's ultimate successor.

Until Connor Ambrose entered the Association. He had been an early recruit. Catherine Marcell, a Spectator, had observed him; deciding that he was Association material. He had become a spy, determining which selections of students from Casper High School were suitable for the Association. Weeks later, when the decision was final, he had planted the reactant that had caused their "deaths". For his admirable bravery and dedication, he had replaced Olivia shortly after arriving.

Olivia hadn't taken it well, especially once she was demoted to the profession of Instructor.

Star had met Olivia a few weeks after the latter woman's demotion. She had been dining in the cafeteria hall, sipping from a large mug of coffee at the only table available and Star had settled herself down across from Olivia. The two didn't speak much; after all, Star represented the generation who had stolen Olivia's position. As time passed, though, and Star continued to sit at the table, the two began to converse. Soon, both held a mutual respect for the other, a friendship forming.

"Couldn't we wait a little while longer before bringing in new recruits? We only just adjusted," she suggested, folding her arms across her chest.

He nodded sympathetically. "If only," he murmured. "But Lukas likes his traditions."  
>It was silent for a moment, before Danny spoke again: "Listen, I better go; I'm going to be late. I'll see you around, okay?"<p>

She muttered a quick goodbye, beginning her return to the apartment. If Valerie truly was working late in an attempt to secure her position on the Wheel, Star couldn't really fault her. She couldn't blame her, but she certainly could worry about her. After all, she'd seen her friend's drive and determination first hand before; she knew how obsessed Valerie could get when it came to Lukas and the Wheel, to Amity Park

Rubbing her hands together, Star stepped onto the front porch of her small apartment building. She had resigned herself to stop looking for the missing girl: Valerie was an adult now, and, as an adult, could take care of herself. (Most of the time, anyway.)

She pulled her keys out of her pocket, unlocking the front door. "Valerie? Are you home?"

Star let out a sigh of relief at the sound of movement in the small kitchen across the hall, preceding the sight of Val's head appearing from behind the door frame, a smile already on her face.

"I was wondering where you'd gotten to, Star. I was just starting breakfast. Do you want some?"

Star smiled gratefully, hanging her coat on the back of her chair. As she entered the kitchen, smiling in gratitude at her friend's thoughtfulness, she momentarily forgot the worries that had been plaguing her. After all, Valerie had always been stable: She wasn't a flight risk, wasn't dangerous. She had held her own when her dad lost his job, had made the best of a rotten situation. Valerie was strong.

If only, though, Star could see the grimaces of pain on her flat-mate's face as she moved about the kitchen, spatula in hand. Why look at reality when fiction is oh so simple?

* * *

><p><strong>Author's Note:<strong> And that's it for Chapter Two. The next chapter should focus more on what's been going on in Amity Park over the last two years and maybe you'll get to finally see a few more familiar faces. Hint Hint. I would like to note, though, that there will be a few OCs in this fic, as you can probably already tell. They're vital to the story because they are the framework of the Association. However they're more minor characters than anything else, so if you're not a big fan of OCs, they shouldn't be too much of a problem.

I tremendously apologize for any typos in this chapter. I did a quick review of it, but we're in the midst of some massive storms and I'm really just rushing to get this posted before the worst of the storm hits. Feel free to let me know if you spot some and I'll fix them once we're out of our lovely little tornado warning.

For those of you, like me, that are in the midst of possible tornadoes and severe weather, **_be careful!_**It's pretty nasty out there.

And for those of you that aren't? A review's always nice! :) Meanwhile, I'll be chilling my basement.

-Inky


	4. Chapter  Three

**Chapter Three:**

_"Sometimes when I consider what tremendous consequences come from little things, I am tempted to think there are no little things." _

_– Bruce Barton_

Sam Manson hadn't been working at Casper High School for very long, just a brief semester. While she was a first year teacher, she had practically grown up here, and yet she was still treated as if she was fresh meat, the lackey to the older educators. She was educated and bright, eager to _teach_. It was a profession she loved dearly, much to the disgruntlement of her mother.

Sam knew that her mother, Pamela Manson, didn't really have any position to place judgment. Sam was twenty-seven years old and had already made her share of mistakes; mistakes she had learned from.

Every decision she had ever made had defined her, especially after Danny's death.

In the weeks following, Sam had nothing left to do but rebel. After a while, she began to dabble with alcohol, resulting in the worst - though ultimately, the best - decision of her life. Eight months later, little Holly was born. Holly's father wasn't really in the picture anymore, and it was just the two of them, mother and daughter, on their own. When Holly was three years old, Sam struggling to make ends meet, Pamela finally decided to intervene.

Pamela was willing to help pay for Holly's necessities, _if_, and only if, Sam agreed to return to school: get her GDA, go to college, and get an actual job. (Apparently working two shifts at the supermarket didn't count as a _real _job as far as Pamela was concerned.) In the beginning, Sam had declined the offer, claiming that she'd find a way to make it work.

Until Holly's medical problems started. The little girl, the light of her mother's life, was diagnosed with leukemia. As it was, Sam had no way of paying her daughter's bills, no way of keeping up with rent. In the end, she had no choice but to accept Pamela's offer, agreeing to return to school once they had battled the cancer into remission.

And they did.

On Holly's fifth birthday, Sam returned to school. In a flurry of online and practical courses, Sam ultimately graduated with her teaching certificate. When Sam accepted a position at a small town New York school, Holly's cancer battled into remission, she informed her mother that, though they could still keep in touch, they no longer needed her money.

The pair still spoke every now and again; however, upon Sam's relocation back to Amity Park, Indiana, the two had steadily decreased their conversations. Sam knew that her mother didn't entirely approve, that she was worried Sam would slip back into old habits.

But all Sam was asking for was a leap of faith.

With a sigh, she closed out of her email, running a hand through her hair. Holly was at gymnastics practice and wouldn't be done for another half an hour or so. With a groan, Sam grabbed her grade book, preparing to enter the grades into the computer, when a knock sounded at the door.

"Excuse me?"

She looked up, a smile already positioned on her face. She remembered the words her senior adviser, Mr. Lancer, had told her: _"You never know with these parents; they're extremely volatile. You remember the accident, Sam. A lot of these parents still have children here; sometimes they'll be your students. Most have gotten over it but you can never be too sensitive. Especially for you. After last time they're still very wary about their chemistry teachers."_

"Yes, can I help you?" she asked the man.

He stepped forward into the room, his hands awkwardly positioned in his pockets. "You're Ms. Manson, right? The Chemistry teacher?"

She nodded, inspecting him. He was fairly ordinary; no defining features, or at least none that she could place. She couldn't be positive, of course (after all, she did have over a hundred students), but she was fairly certain that she had never seen him before, and Sam liked to think she had a fairly decent memory.

"Yes, that's me," she said. "Is there something I can help you with?"

"Er, yes. My daughter and I are looking to enroll in the school and the office said it was okay to get a look around. They said you wouldn't mind giving us the back stage tour," he answered, adjusting his glasses.

She knew that technically he was right. She certainly wasn't accomplishing anything productive, was finished with all her work for the day. She couldn't help but feel exasperated, though; she was annoyed that the faculty had sentenced her, the newbie, to the position of tour guide.

With a resigned sigh, she stood from her chair, smoothing nonexistent wrinkles from the fabric of her skirt. She plastered on a smile, spreading her hands in a welcoming gesture.

"Sure," she said. "I'd love to."

It wasn't entirely true, of course, and she was fairly certain that the unnamed man realized that too.

"Brilliant," he said. He turned, facing the door. "Bailey! Come on in!"

With a smile, the man turned back to Sam. "She's a little shy, you see," he explained. "I'm Logan, by the way. Logan Smith. And this – " he motioned towards the small girl who had just entered the room " – is my daughter, Bailey."

If Logan, the father, was ordinary, then the daughter was certainly extraordinary.

Logan Smith was simple: his hair was shaggy, blond curls falling past his ears. His eyes, she couldn't quite make out the color, were hidden behind thick black frames. His bone structure was fine and sharp, his stature thin and wiry. Sam supposed he was handsome, in an ordinary sort of way. (This, after the last fifteen years of her life, was certainly not a bad thing.)

His daughter, on the other hand, seemed to be the polar opposite, baring no resemblance to her father. Whilst Logan was pale and wiry, the girl was short and dark. Her eyes were wide, her hair long, and her short stature barely grazed Sam's shoulders. Her olive skin was flushed, her face devoid of make-up. There was no resemblance – not even a well-placed freckle – between the pair.

Sam assumed that adoption was involved somehow (or very dominant genes stemming from the mother).

"Hello," she said to the girl, holding out her hand. "I'm, as I'm sure you're already aware, Ms. Manson."

"Pleasure to meet you," the little girl said quietly, her hand fully disappearing in Sam's grip. "I'm Bailey." Her voice was soft, timid, but she held and maintained eye contact, her hold on Sam's hand tight. Too tight.

With an uncomfortable cough, Sam turned her attention to the girl's father.

"So, what schools have you toured so far?" she asked.

"This is our last stop," he said. "We've toured all the surrounding districts, but nothing has really...stuck."

"Well, Casper's a great school – one of the best in the state," she said, clapping her hands together enthusiastically. "Shall we begin the tour then?"

The pair nodded, falling into step as Sam led them out of the classroom.

"The basement's essentially the science department – you'll find all the classes in that branch down here. Freshmen are generally at the end of the hall; Bailey, what grade will you be in?"

"She'll be a freshman," her father interjected. "But she's planning on taking some of the more advanced courses."

"Which means, I imagine, that I'll be seeing you in class," Sam said. As the girl grinned at her, Sam couldn't help but feel rather unsettled. There was something strange about the child, something disconcerting.

"I look forward to it, ma'am."

Sam raised her brows in astonishment. Though not entirely sparse, manners were increasingly becoming few and far in between. Her own daughter, even, only used manners on rare occasions.

"So, shall we go upstairs?" She motioned towards the looming staircase, already beginning her lecture on the esteemed English department.

The pair nodded, following silently behind her.

* * *

><p>"Holly, what do you want for dinner? I was thinking take-out..."<p>

Holly Manson glanced up from her pre-algebra text book, pen dangling from her lips.

"Whatever!" she called. "Just not pizza; we had that last night." With a sigh, she put down her pencil, getting to her feet. She found her mother in the kitchen, searching the cupboards for the phone book.

"Mom, why couldn't you have just been a math teacher? I'm gonna _fail_!"

"You're exaggerating, dear. I talked to Mr. Foster the other day, and he said your scores have really been improving."

Holly sighed, lifting herself up onto the counter. "I have to pass, Mom, otherwise Coach will kick me off the team."

"Are you sure that's such a bad thing? Isn't it a bit too taxing? And it would give you more time to work on your studies..."

Holly rolled her eyes, folding her arms across her chest.

"The doctor said I was perfectly healthy, mother," she said, her voice sharp. "I'm not a little kid anymore, you know."

From across the kitchen, Sam halted her movements.

"Holly, I would appreciated it if you dropped the attitude," she remarked, her eyes narrowed.

Scowling, the pre-teen made her way back into the living room. She knew that her mother simply had her best interests at heart; she understood her fears. She understood - respected them, even - but that did not mean that she had to _like _them. Especially after all the work Holly had had to do to get where she was. Holly had spent her childhood in and out of hospitals, confined to her bed. When the cancer was _finally _fought into remission, Holly had been left weak and lonely.

When they were certain that the cancer was out of the picture and her mother started working again, Holly had been permitted to begin attending school. It hadn't been easy; by fourth grade, friendships had already been formed, and so Holly committed herself to her studies and new found love: gymnastics.

By the time they had moved to Amity Park, Holly was prepared to try out for the middle school gymnastics team.

It was undeniable that her mother wasn't happy. (That was an understatement. For a week, the two barely spoke.)

As time passed, Sam gradually opened up and began to accept that Holly loved cheering and wasn't going to change her mind any time soon. They had finally reached a draw, but sometimes the pair still fell back into the old routine, the familiar argument resurfacing.

From the living room, Holly could hear her mother moving angrily about the kitchen. Shutting her eyes tightly, she counted to ten, willing her mother to calm down.

Twenty minutes later, her mother reemerged, carrying a bowl of popcorn in her hands.

"I was thinking about inviting Tucker and Jazz to dinner tomorrow night, is that okay with you?" Sam asked, positioning herself on the couch beside Holly.

Holly thrust her hand into the bowl, smiling, "I haven't seen Uncle Tuck in _forever_!"

Unable to stop the grin from spreading across her face, Sam handed her daughter the popcorn bowl. "You saw him just the other week, Hall. He hasn't changed that much!"

Holly rolled her eyes.

"No, mom, you saw him. I got stuck doing homework in the kitchen while you guys discussed a_ 'very serious matter.'_"

Sam frowned, retracting her hand from her daughter's hair. She had forgotten about that day. Sam had still been reacquainting herself with the town and, inevitably, the ghost hunting it required.

Ever since that fateful day in classroom five hundred and five, the town had been overrun with ghosts, more so than ever before. Though the citizens of Amity Park would never realize the truth, Danny Phantom had also been killed in the fateful accident. While the city mourned the loss of the students, Sam, Tucker, and Jazz had been thrust into the vacant spot Danny's death had caused.

The trio had been forced to mourn quietly as they worked to keep the ghost situation under control. Ultimately, it had been too much for Sam to handle. Danny was her best friend, the boy she had loved since their kindergarten days, and she hadn't even been allowed time to grieve. The Mansons had taken a quick look at their daughter and decided that Amity Park was unhealthy for the struggling family. And, though she could never admit it to Tucker and Jazz, she had agreed with them.

By moving away she had been given the opportunity to start over, to mourn without the burden of ghost hunting and sympathetic looks trailing behind her everywhere she went. It was a breath of fresh air, especially when she discovered that she was pregnant.

She knew that Tucker and Jazz still hadn't quite forgiven her for leaving, and so she was doing everything in her power to pick up the slack now that she had returned. After all, it was only fair.

"Well, you'll see him tomorrow night, dear. And Jazz, too," Sam said, offering a weak smile to her daughter.

"Just so long as we don't have to eat Nasty Burger, Mom. That's all I ask," her daughter said, grabbing a handful of the popcorn.

"That sounds perfectly reasonable," her mother agreed. "I'll –" She was cut off by the shrill tone of her cell phone. "I'll be right back, hon."

She grabbed the phone, hurrying back into the kitchen.

"Tuck, what is it?"

"You wanted to help, Sam; here's your chance. There's been a ghost attack in the park and we're going to need all the help we can get. You in?"

* * *

><p><strong>Author's Note:<strong> It's taken three chapters, but Sam has finally entered the story, guys. So, no, she's not dead and she's not in the ranks of the Association, she's just had quite a bit on her plate.

This is probably the last of the chapter updates to come this quickly. Up until this point I've had all the chapters typed and ready to go, just in need of some slight editing, but now I've got to begin writing the chapters from scratch before updating. I hope to keep up a system of weekly updates, but patience is a lovely thing, my dear readers. I'm about to enter my last quarter of high school and between school, scholarships, and work (+ everything else), it might get a little complicated sometimes. I do promise to do everything within my power to keep the updates coming. Reviews, too, always help out the motivational process, though! ;)

Thanks a billion to all the lovely individuals who reviewed the last chapter: **BerryEbilBunny, Oak Leaf Ninja, Fluehatraya,** **1valleygirl4, **and **ThePurpleSuperCow**. You guys definitely made my weekend!

(And, hey, to any Young Justice fans, have you had the chance to see Misplaced yet? What'd you think of it?)

Don't forget to review and make a certain author _incredibly_ happy! :)

-Inky


	5. Chapter Four

Chapter Four:

"_Time wears on and the memory withers, like the flowers placed on a grave with less frequency each passing year. With the passing of a few mere generations it's as though you never existed at all." _

– _**Daughters of the Moon**_

Danny had been having a long day.

The first day back was never easy; something that had always applied back in the old days, too. Over time he had found that it was extremely rare that things were ever similar between the two paths of his life. One side, the beginning, was a simple existence: school, girls, and ghosts. It wasn't easy by any means, but it was almost natural. He had his powers, his two best friends in the world, and a pretty awesome (though admittedly odd) family. In today's world, the world of the Association, what mattered was staying alive; getting by without being discovered and getting the information he needed. The responsibility of saving more lives than ever before was resting on his shoulders – a rather tremendous burden. But, through all the changes that had occurred over the last ten years, one thing remained consistent: bad days were frequent and long term.

Generally the causes varied, whether it was a run in with a particularly nasty ghost or a life lost on a mission, but they always ended the same. They forced him into action.

Danny had always been a resourceful individual, often managing to make lemonade from an oranges. He was inventive and creative; two key personality traits that had helped push him into the Protector position. When things didn't go his way, he worked to fix them, doing the impossible to turn them around, to make up for them.

It wasn't fool proof and in some cases, there was nothing left to do. After all, once a life is lost, there is no getting it back; however, following every accident, he always worked to improve security, to up his standards.

Danny did not accept failure. Could not.

"You're being ridiculous about this, you know."

He ignored the voice near his ear, concentrating on the maps laid out before him.

"Danny, this isn't the way to go about this. We need recruits first and foremost. And with the new batch coming in, it'll be the perfect time! They'll want out. Quickly. They'll be easier to sway!"

Danny may have been the creative mind, but Olivia Cross was the voice of reason.

With a sigh, he leaned back in his chair, arching a brow at his companion. "Where do you propose we find these recruits? The Association is loyal to Lukas above all," he said, running a hand over his face, kneading the skin between his eyes.

"Not everyone," Olivia answered quietly. "Are we loyal to Lukas? There's bound to be disgruntlement amongst the members; it's just a matter of weeding out _whom_."

"That's all well and good, Liv, except that we have no clue who those select few are! Especially now with the batch of newbies coming in, people are going to be clutching to their positions tighter than ever. No one's going to want to risk being discovered as unfaithful," he reminded her, exasperated.

Olivia sighed, perching herself on the edge of Danny's desk. "They're not all cowards, Dan. These people were chosen to serve the Association for a reason. Specifically the Guards - they know something's up. Didn't you say you talked to Star about this just earlier today? Isn't she suspicious?"

"Star is loyal to Valerie," he answered with a sigh. "She's concerned for her friend, nothing more and nothing less."

"I _know _Star. She's not an idiot. Perhaps her concern is her driving factor, but isn't that alone a worthy cause for her joining us? If she can help Valerie in any way..."

Angrily, Danny stood from his chair, making his way to the window, leaning against the frame.

"Olivia, Star wouldn't dare risk jeopardizing Val's chances at retaining her position. If she were caught... Theo isn't stupid; he'd know the quickest way to hurt her would be to hurt Val. And we all know what would happen should Valerie suddenly be demoted," he said scathingly.

Olivia rolled her eyes, grabbing her jacket from the back of her chair.

"We don't need another situation like last time. And there's a pretty decent chance that the new recruits are going to be even more ruthless," she said. She paused, as if carefully choosing her words. "Be careful, Danny. Please."

He smiled at her, though the grin was weak. "I'm always careful, Livia. Where's your faith in me?"

"You're under a lot of stress and you're back in your hometown. It's a lot of temptation."

The grin quickly dropped from his face as he ran a hand through his hair. "I know the risks all too well. I'm not going to screw this up; I can't do it to them. Not again."

"You know, Danny, if we stop this once and for all, you can go home. They won't ever have to worry about a thing," Olivia said, placing a hand on his shoulder.

He glanced up, locking eyes with her, "It's just getting to that point."

"Have a little more faith than that, fearless leader. How're we ever going to stage a rebellion if the leader of it doesn't even believe in the cause? We _can _do this. Just look at all of our progress, all the planning. It's time to put everything into motion, to put a stop to all of this." Olivia rose from her chair, a weak smile playing on her lips. "I need to go meet with some of the Representatives. Be patient, Dan. We'll get through this."

He raised his hand in a half-hearted wave, bidding goodbye to his closest friend, his partner. "Thanks Livia."

"Don't mention it," she grinned, before turning to make her way out the door. "Remember, Star isn't lost yet. Talk to her about it, hint. She's concerned for Valerie and maybe, just maybe, she'll realize that this is the only way to solve the problem."

Hours later when the Association had lulled itself to sleep, Danny finally vacated his position. After assigning two Guards to pick up his slack, he hustled out of the building, seeking refuge in the crisp night.

He knew Olivia was right; knew that their mission was achievable. It was just a matter of getting to that point and Star was a good place to start. She held sway over their generation and, most importantly, could keep an eye on Valerie.

If only, though, Valerie could still be the Valerie of long ago – the Red Huntress. But that was the past, as Danny had come to realize. Years ago Amity Park had been his home, his responsibility. It had been his job to protect it from ghosts, to fend off malicious entities. He wasn't perfect at it by any means, but he got the job done.

In the days following the Incident, Danny had been lost. The Association had remained unaware of his ghost powers (something Danny was intent on keeping that way), and Amity Park was left to fend for itself. He had only hoped that Sam, Tucker, and Jazz (and his parents, of course) could help pick up the slack where he couldn't. And, he couldn't help but notice, it seemed they had been successful. At least the town hadn't been completely overrun by ghosts, anyway.

As he rounded a corner, his hands numb, he froze.

Standing at the end of the street, thermos in hand, was none other than Sam Manson. Sam Manson who happened to be looking directly at him.

* * *

><p><strong>Author's Note: <strong>So, I'm not particularly pleased with this chapter. At all. It has seriously been the biggest pain to write even though, ironically enough, it's the shortest chapter thus far (excluding the prologue). I don't know what it is about it, I've just seriously been lacking on the motivation front for it. It doesn't help that I've been _insanely _busy these last few days. (Scheduling my classes for next year + orientation, tons of tests/make-up homework, and loads of scholarships? Plus work, beautiful weather, and wonderful family drama? Yeah, fate just didn't want me to write this.

But here it is in its completed glory. I seriously just finished writing it a few minutes ago and am going to post it before I head to bed. There are likely to be plenty of typos, so if you spot any, let me know and I'll go in and change them sometime tomorrow. :)

Thank you again to the wonderful individuals who reviewed the last chapter. You guys seriously make my day and keep me motivated: **Fluehatraya, Laora, Oak Leaf Ninja, Bananahsplit, and BerryEbilBunny.** You guys are all _fantastic_! :)

Have an awesome week, guys! I know if you live down south (like me) you've been having some awesome weather. Here's to hoping it keeps up! Also, if any of you happen to be Avatar: The Last Airbender fans, please go check out KorraNation. The official release date for Korra has been set for April 14th, but if KorraNation reaches 100,000 (new) likes on FB (plus some other things) then the episode will be released on March 24th instead. So like! And get your friends to like! 'Cause then it can be a wonderful week of Hunger Games, Young Justice, _and _Korra.

Don't forget to _review_ and keep being awesome!


	6. Chapter Five

**Author's Note: **I had to make a minor change to Chapter Three because of this chapter. It's incredibly minor, but it's a small matter of continuity. So, yeah, feel free to re-read that chapter if you'd like. (Or not. It's not extremely pressing.)

Chapter Five:

_(Thousand Miles.)_

"Holly, please be on your best behavior."

_"Mom!"_

"I mean it, Holly. Be polite and respectful; remember you are their guest. If I hear one word about misbehaving, I will be there within five minutes. Do you understand me?"

_"Good-bye, Mom!"_

"I love you, sweetheart."

_"Love you too. I really have to go!"_

Sighing, Sam ended the call, glancing down at her napkin.

"They grow up so fast, don't they?"

"God, it feels like just yesterday that she was in diapers," she answered, leaning back in her chair. "I can't believe she's at her first sleepover."

"The first of many, I'm sure," Jazz Fenton laughed. The older girl reached for her drink, eyeing her friend. "Maybe one day it'll be you hosting the slumber parties."

Sam laughed. "Ha, so that her friends can see our train wreck of a home? No thank-you. Seriously, have you ever talked to those women? It's all, 'Oh, I'm so sorry for the mess. What must you think of me?' and there's not a single thing in sight. There are probably hospitals that are dirtier! What would they think of casa del Manson with all our dirty dishes piled in the sink?"

"Oh, so whatever happened to the I-don't-care-what-people-think-about-me act?" Jazz asked, arching a brow skeptically at her friend.

"That was before Holly was born. If Holly wants to impress those people, then I'll do everything within my power to help her," she said. "That's the best I can –"

"Hello, welcome to the Mabel Street Café, my name is Jess. I see you've already got your drinks, so what can I get you to eat? Or do you need a little more time to look over the menu?"

After placing their orders, Sam turned back to Jazz, a wicked grin on her face.

"So how're things working out with Tuck? You guys adjusting okay?"

The red-haired girl blushed furiously. "It's still weird living together. I mean, I haven't shared an apartment with someone since college. But it's good weird, you know?"

"You two are so precious!" Sam said. "Just so you know, I expect to be Maid of Honor at the wedding. But I draw the line at pink dresses."

"_Sam! _ No, there are no wedding bells in the near future. We've only been dating for a year; that's way too soon," Jazz remarked.

"Nah, you've known him for over twenty years," Sam said. "Besides, I only knew Simon for a few weeks. A year is nothing in comparison."

"That was different, Sam."

And it was.

In the months following Danny's death, Sam hadn't handled her emotions all too well. She had spiraled out of control, letting her emotions dictate her every action. And that included Simon Jones.

She had met Simon, fittingly enough, at a bar in downtown New York City. The two had hit it off almost instantly, and had swiftly exchanged numbers, both under the assumption they would never meet again. The next night, they ran into each other against the odds. Nine months later, precious Holly was born.

The two had been "talking" for a while when Sam first discovered that she was pregnant. To Simon's credit, he did the "right" thing by their parent's standards, and dropped down on one knee shortly after the discovery. It wasn't true love, they weren't destined to be together forever; at the time, though, it had seemed so appealing. Sam may not have loved Simon, but she certainly _liked _him, and marrying him would provide stability. Stability for her and the baby that was on its way. The shotgun wedding promptly followed and Holly Manson-Jones was born shortly after.

And for a while, things worked – they were happy.

Then the leukemia hit and the dam finally burst. Simon made minimum wage at a book store in the mall while Sam worked two shifts at the supermarket. It was enough to survive on, but only barely. And when the medical bills started streaming in, things became strained. They couldn't survive on their own and Simon's parents were little to no help, so they turned to Pamela and Jeremy Manson. Sam promised to return to school following the cancer's remission; something she'd been meaning to do for a while.

When Holly's cancer was finally beaten, the marriage broke to the point of no return.

The pair had never been destined to stay together, had always seen the end in sight.

It didn't change the fact that when it came, though, it hurt. Quite a bit.

Simon was still relatively involved in their lives, but he had been given a position at a publishing company in California – an opportunity he couldn't pass up. He called Holly almost every night and kept up regular correspondence with Sam, though, refusing to fully abandon his daughter.

Ultimately Sam couldn't even regret her relationship with Simon. He had taught her many things, had helped bring her beautiful daughter into the world, and he had helped her heal. He had picked up the pieces that Danny's death had left.

"Don't you ever think about it, Jazz?" Sam asked, leaning on the table. "Marriage, kids…"

"One day maybe," her friend said. "Right now, though… Tucker's on the brink of a promotion, I'm so close to opening my own practice, and, of course, there are the ghosts. It's just not the time."

"Marriage doesn't necessarily mean kids, Jazz. And besides, the ghost situation is nowhere near as bad as it used to be. I mean, yeah, it's not great and all, but it's manageable," Sam said.

Jazz nodded. "I know it is. I'm just… I'm not quite ready yet."

"Okay," Sam grinned. "But when you are, there better not be any pink involved."

By the time the pair left the restaurant, darkness had descended on Amity Park. With a laugh – assisted by the wine they'd shared at dinner – both went their separate ways. While Sam went east, Jazz went west towards the center of town and her apartment with Tucker Foley.

Honestly, even after a year of their dating (and a few years of their flirting prior to making it official), Sam was still a little amazed at the relationship that had sprung up between her two best friends. After all, following Danny's death and Sam's relocation, they were all each other had. Sometimes Sam actually found herself jealous of their relationship – happy and in love – but above all she was happy for her best friends. They had made something out of the darkness, had made something and were still making it work. Despite Jazz's denials of marriage, Sam couldn't help but think it was only a matter of time before she was standing next to a blushing bride.

Sparing one last glance in Jazz's direction, Sam made her way down the opposite end of the sidewalk. Whereas Jazz was heading home to a loving boyfriend, Sam was on her way to an empty house.

Tonight marked a momentous occasion, after all. The night of Holly's first sleepover.

Which, along with serving as the beginning of her daughter's maturity, it also marked the first night Sam had had to herself since her relationship with Simon ended.

Time to bring out the popcorn and cheesy sci-fi flicks!

She was half-way home when she first spotted him.

Honestly, she almost walked past him. After all, it had been almost ten years since she had last seen him. Ten years since he had _died._

She could not deny, though, that the man standing before her bore a striking resemblance to her deceased best friend, Danny Fenton. But that wasn't possible. So not possible. Sam could list all the reasons – and there were hundreds of them – that it _was not possible._

But it was.

Seconds passed, but Sam could not move; could not look away.

Then he looked up.

The man's eyes widened almost imperceptibly, his mouth opening in surprise. But only seconds later his eyes narrowed, a scowl already forming on his face.

"What're you looking at, freak?"

And her heart broke.

This wasn't Danny, couldn't be. The Danny she knew and loved would _never _call her a freak no matter how angry he was with her. Above all else, though, Danny was dead. Ghost powers or no, she was sure that if he had survived the explosion, he would have returned.

No, he was long dead. This man wasn't Danny, even if the appearance was uncanny (if a little older).

"Certainly not you, douche-bag," she snarled, stepping aside him. "Like I would spare a glance on the likes of you."

Her breathing shallow, she rounded the corner before finally breaking into a run, pieces of her heart trailing behind.

* * *

><p>"Bailey, what exactly are you doing, honey?"<p>

Bailey Smith glanced up, a smile spreading across her face. "Just getting ready for the lab today, Ms. Manson."

"Why don't you take a seat so I can take attendance first?"

The little girl's grin widened. "Actually, ma'am, may I go use the restroom?"

Ms. Manson glanced to the clock, her lips thinning, "If it's an emergency. Try and be back before the bell, though."

Bailey grabbed her bag, slipping quickly out the door. Logan had given her a time limit after all; had told her to be out of the room when the Incident occurred. They didn't want any of the students (or Ms. Manson) placing blame on Lukas's precious daughter, Bailey.

She still had five minutes to spare, though, and Ms. Manson would get suspicious if she was gone –

_WHAM!_

With a shout of surprise, Bailey fell backwards, with nothing but her bag to help cushion her fall.

"Ohmygosh, I am _so _sorry!"

Bailey glanced up, her cheeks flushing, to meet the gaze of a girl that was even smaller than herself. The girl hovering over her couldn't be very old – ten years at the most – and was rail, almost sickly, thin. A girl that young didn't need to be in a high school of all places…

"Did you just leave my mom's room?"

"Um, yes? Your mom?"

"Yeah, that's my mom's room! She teaches science!"

"Oh, you're Ms. Manson's daughter?"

"Yep!"

Oh, no. Oh no oh no oh no.

Her father was going to kill her.

"What are you doing here? Shouldn't you be at your own school?"

"School's over! Duh! Usually my Aunt Jazz picks me up and takes me home, but mom told me to ride the bus today. Something about Aunt Jazz and Uncle Tuck needing some alone time…"

"Well, how 'bout I take you to the vending machine. Would you like that…"

"Holly!"

"…Holly. Would you like that?"

There was absolutely no way she could let the kid go in her mother's classroom. Her dad would be absolutely murderous. He would –

Her train of thought was cut off by the sound of an explosion as the foundation of Casper High shook. It had happened; the reactant had been triggered.

_"MOM!"_

Bailey whipped her head in the direction of the little girl; the girl she had subconsciously grabbed at the sound of the explosion. Holly was struggling in her arms, desperate to get free. _"MOM!"_

By now teachers and students had started swarming the halls; some were screaming, others sobbing, while some seemed to be almost catatonic.

The town's worst fear had been realized.

For the second time, on the anniversary of the first incident, a chemistry classroom had been the brunt of an accident.

An accident that had robbed thirty more lives, including the mother of the little girl she was holding.

* * *

><p><strong>Author's Note: <strong>Gah, so much OC interaction in this chapter. Seriously, the entire last quarter is all OC. I do apologize for it, but it was necessary to begin the first arch for the story.

Oh, did I mention we're officially in the first arch? I'm not sure how long I plan on stretching this (the outline says _at least _twenty chapters or so), but we have successfully gotten to the actual action. The next chapter should hopefully answer all your main questions thus far (seriously, it's practically the explanation/exposition chapter). But above all else, Chapter Six will have a nice little proper reunion scene. Yay! And then the real action begins. Be prepared! ;)

I'm hoping to get the next chapter out sometime this weekend, though if my weekend is as full of as much nerdy goodness as I'm expecting, we'll see how that actually plays out. (Seriously, The Hunger Games midnight showing, a new Young Justice, and possibly the online Legend of Korra premiere all air on the back end of this week.) So, amidst real life + all my little fandom nerdiness, we'll see how quickly I post. Hey, I cranked this one out pretty quickly, so there's hope.

A big tremendous thank-you to **Laora, Elle Aitch, Oak Leaf Ninja, tehphantomwolf **(Yeah, Kentucky weather has been insane. It's been eighty degrees for the past two weeks when we usually have snow at this time. Not that I'm complaining of course!)**, Fluehatraya, and KP100. **You all deserve massive props and cookies. Lots and lots of cookies. Joking aside, though, you are all my motivation to keep writing!

I'm hoping that I managed to catch all the typos, but the battery on my laptop is on the brink of death and the charger isn't exactly in the vicinity, so please feel free to let me know if you spot some massive grammatical/continuity errors.

Don't forget to review, guys, and if you're curious about updates, etc, please feel free to follow me on Tumblr too. (Same URL: inkyperspective.)

And, to quote Hank and John Green, don't forget to be awesome.


	7. Chapter Six, Part One

**Chapter Six, Part One:**

"_All changes, even the most longed for, have their melancholy; for what we leave behind us is a part of ourselves. We must die to one life before we can enter another."_

– _**Anatole France**_

The room she found herself in was pitch dark. She couldn't see, but she could certainly still smell, could hear. The room smelled distinctly of mildew, of severe water damage. She could hear the leaky pipes; water dripping from various points across the room. (The source of the smell, perhaps?) All around her, people began to stir. _Her students?_ She slid her hand across a wall, her hand gliding along the damp cement.

Sam had no idea how she'd gotten herself into this situation. Sure, she had always had a tendency to attract danger (or, more often than not, search it out herself), but this?

The last thing she remembered was sending her students to their lab stations to finish their experiments from the day prior. Sam had made her way to her desk to call and make sure Holly had gotten to the high school alright…

Then Katie Simmons had screamed.

Smoke had filled the room…

"Is everyone okay?" she called, stretching her free arm in the direction of a child breathing.

"Ms. Manson, where are we?"

As the students gradually woke, the room's volume rose to a crescendo.

"Everybody calm down! Panicking will get us nowhere!

While the roar slightly faded, whispers still littered the air. The noise was more manageable, though, allowing Sam to actually think. First, she needed to devise an escape plan. The room was painfully dark; so dark that her eyes simply weren't adjusting. She doubted that they even would. Without sight, things became exponentially more difficult.

Difficult, but not impossible.

"Does anyone have any idea where we are?"

Silence.

"Or any idea on how to get out?"

More silence.

Sam slid down the wall, blinking repeatedly. She knew it was dark; too dark for her students to see her tears. There was more to it than that, though. She had dealt with countless ghosts almost singlehandedly; she would not let these creeps see her cry.

Wouldn't.

Couldn't.

"Ms. Manson, where are we?" The voice sounded choked with tears, small and feeble. Sam couldn't place the student, but they were near-by. Close enough to touch…

"It's okay; we'll figure this out –"

Suddenly the room was filled with a blinding light. Sam blinked, her eyes widening. To her surprise, the students remained silent, paralyzed in fear. The light continued to spread throughout the room, contaminating every surface and bathing the students in a faint glow.

There was a door.

And it was open.

Sam rose to her feet, stumbling slightly.

"Stay put!" she ordered, stepping around the children scattered on the floor. "I'll be right back."

She was half-way up the stairs, when a figure appeared on the landing, cloaked in darkness.

"You all need to come with me."

"Where are you taking us?" Sam snarled, her fists clenching. "What do you want from us?"

The figure remained stoic. "We assumed you all were hungry. I would like to invite you all upstairs for a lovely supper."

"And then what?"

"We will answer all of your questions, of course," the figure replied.

Sam raised a brow, prepared to protest, but she could hear the unanimous mumblings of the students behind her.

"Fine," she said slowly, "but if you touch one hair on their heads, so help me, you will be sorry."

She turned around before the figure could comment.

"Everyone, follow me. Remain quiet and stay together at all times."

The students gathered together, all meeting in the center of the room. Each step seemed pained, their expressions filled with apprehension as they ascended the stairs.

The room they entered was, to put it quite simply, rather comfortable. It seemed almost like something that could be found on an eighties sitcom. It was cozy, with simple curtains framing the windows. It was a kitchen with simple accommodations, just with an additional set of tables and chairs.

Sam inhaled, taking in a whiff of cinnamon.

"Everyone, please take a seat. We have plenty of chairs."

Exhausted, the students dropped into the chairs surrounding the multiple tables. Sam, however, remained standing, her fists clenched.

"We're out of there now. Explain," she snarled.

The figure, who, in the proper light, was recognizable as a woman, smiled weakly. "I promise, everything will be explained. Just be patient. They're bringing in breakfast right now," she said.

Sam grumbled under her breath, taking the empty seat beside one of her quieter students.

"Ms. Manson," Tony Williams said, "what's going on?"

"We'll find out, Tony," she whispered. "And then we're going to get out of here. Whichever comes first."

The minutes passed, breakfast was served, and they still found themselves waiting.

As Sam began to rise to her feet, preparing herself for another confrontation, the door swung open, leaving her breathless.

None other than Valerie Gray stood in the doorway, arms crossed.

Valerie Gray.

Valerie Gray who, along with twenty other students, had been declared dead in classroom five-oh-five.

How was that even –

"Good morning, Sam," the darker skinned girl said, smiling at Sam. "I apologize for your earlier accommodations. It must have given you quite the scare."

"Valerie, what is going on? Why are you here? _How_?"

"Have a seat, Sam. I can't explain everything for you; I'm just here to make sure everything is under control. My associate will be here in just a minute to help –"

"No! I demand an explanation right now! You can't just show up ten years later, kidnap innocent students, and expect me to remain perfectly calm about this whole ordeal! Was it you who caused the first accident? Are you the one that killed Danny? Killed everyone else in that room? How _dare _you even show your face here!"

"Sam, please, calm down."

"What you did was despicable! And now you're doing it again! How could you do this to Danny, Valerie? You were friends! You knew –"

"Excuse me; may I have everyone's attention?"

Her head swung up, her mouth dropping open. Standing in the front of the room was none other than Danny Fenton. He was older, certainly, but there was no doubt in her mind that this was her Danny. The boy she had loved so dearly, whose death had, unfortunately, defined her life.

"I know this can be a fairly terrifying experience, but we hope to make this transition as simple as possible. Remember, no matter how strange, how upsetting this may seem, you are surrounded by friends," he was saying to her students. His blue eyes – just as beautiful as she remembered – darting from child to child, landing everywhere but on her own. "Now, while we wait for my associate, I would like to welcome you to the Association."

The Association? Murmurs filled the room.

"It is a rather simple organization with a sole mission: To take the world, to shape it, and create a better place. Each of you was selected based on your outstanding potential. You were gathered at a single time, a single place, and brought here to work for the good of the Association. It is an extreme honor.

"Now, I would like to introduce you to my colleague, Connor Ambrose."

As Danny stepped aside, a tall man with light blond hair took his vacated position. As he spoke, the students listened closely, eyes wide. Sam, however, could not drag her eyes away from the boy she had lost so long ago. Danny trailed his way through the cluttered tables, before settling down beside Valerie. He leaned over, whispering in her ear.

He was so close.

_So _close.

As she opened her mouth, preparing to call his name, to confront him, he suddenly began to trail towards the door. Seconds later, he was gone.

"Danny!" she called, interrupting the presentation. From the corner of her eye, she could see Valerie exchange a sharp look with Ambrose, but she paid them no mind. No, Danny had already disappeared once. She would not let him slip away again.

"Sam, please, you must remain calm. The introduction is pivotal to your initiation. Please, return to your seat. Danny will still be here when it's finished; he just has work to do. You can talk to him when this is all over," Valerie said, grabbing her by the shoulders. Sam struggled against her grip, but despite Valerie's now frail appearance, the other girl was still stronger. "Sam, don't make me euthanize you."

With a resigned sigh, Sam slid back into her seat. She had to protect her students, after all. Despite her wishes, they were still her priority.

"Thank you," Valerie murmured. "Now, please listen to Connor. The presentation is almost finished."

* * *

><p>When she was finished with the aptitude test, she found herself wandering the halls of her new building. They had placed all the "new recruits" in the hall of an old apartment complex. Sam had, thankfully, been given a room of her own. It would give her the opportunity to strategize without drawing unnecessary attention. Attention from both the Association and her students.<p>

Sam wasn't entirely certain what to think about the Association. They were certainly creepy, certainly underhanded. As for why Danny and Valerie were associated with them (no pun intended) was still to be seen.

Danny, and even Valerie to an extent, had always been rather level headed. Danny knew to trust his instincts and, Sam had learned, to trust in him. If he was a member – a leader, evidently – then shouldn't that say something?

First, though, she had to find him.

It was just a matter of where to begin.

She had gathered that the Association was spread across town, she just happened to be in their base. It was now a matter of narrowing down _where_ to look. It helped that she was convinced that it had actually been Danny the other night. A Danny who had either undergone a radical personality change or, the more favorable option, had simple been protecting his cover.

Which begged another question: were they ghosts? For some reason, it didn't seem very probable. So, was it a coincidence that they had picked Amity Park, the ghost capital of the world? Had selected the infamous Danny Phantom's secret identity as one of their leaders? It seemed like too big of a coincidence or too many of them. Or perhaps they recognized the potential in a town that had spent their lives fighting off a ghostly menace.

"Hey, you!"

She nearly jumped ten feet in the air, whirling around to face the voice.

A woman stood behind her, a frown on her face. "I'm sorry to scare you." She didn't sound particularly sorry. Then again, though, that seemed to be the trend with the members of the Association. "My name is Olivia Cross. Fenton asked me to bring you to him."

"Danny? Where is he?" she said, wringing her hands.

"If you'll follow me, Ms. Manson."

And she did. The woman leading the way seemed to be in her early forties, touches of gray lighting her hair. She was of small stature, not particularly intimidating, until she opened her mouth. She was crisp and to the point; verging on rude.

But if she could take her to Danny, Sam didn't care if she grew horns and a tail and declared herself the antichrist. It would be worth it.

As Sam followed the woman, Olivia, out of the building and out into the street, Sam wrung her hands together. What would he say? Up to this point, he hadn't seemed particularly enthused about seeing her.

"As a warning, you cannot mention this meeting to anyone else. It could be completely detrimental," Olivia said, shoving her hands in her pockets. "It would set back everything Fenton and I have been working towards." She paused, seeming to carefully select her next words. "It… it's a big risk bringing you to see him. It's worth it, though; whether he chooses to accept that or not."

Moments passed in prolonged silence as the pair continued down the street, before turning down a small alley. Olivia stopped, mid-step, gesturing to a door to her left. "After you. It's at the top of the stairs."

Holding her breath, Sam climbed the seemingly never-ending stairs, preparing to face the boy who had haunted her dreams for the last ten years. The boy who had continually saved the world with a goofy smile in place the whole time; had dedicated his life to saving innocents, his own personal consequences be damned. The boy who, despite his heroics, had seemingly been stolen due to a freak chemistry accident.

The boy who was, against all odds, waiting at the top of the stairs. The boy who was waiting with answers to his mysterious disappearance and the key to finding her way back to her daughter.

* * *

><p><strong>Author's Note: <strong>Gah! First off, let me apologize for taking a millennium to get this chapter out. It wasn't particularly difficult to write, but I've had a whole ton of personal issues to deal with in the meantime. Issues that, while not extremely devastating, kind of zapped my desire to write much of anything at all. But, with all that aside, here it is.

I know, I know; this chapter was supposed to be the big revelation chapter. And it still is to an extent. I wound up having to split this chapter into two parts, though. It was just getting too long (part one falls at about 2,000 words without really hitting the meat of it), so I thought that slicing it in half might be the best option. Let me know what you think!

Again, I can't thank my lovely reviewers enough: **Bananahsplit, Fluehatraya, ChopSuzi, Oak Leaf Ninja, Laora,** and** TiFu**. Your kind words and feedback have really made up for the last few sucktacular weeks I've been having. I can't thank you all enough! Keep being awesome!

Don't forget to review, if you feel like being awesome! (Or if you spot some horrendous typos that I missed.)

And, until next time, "Be the leaf." Or, you know, continue being constructive(ish) members of society. Normal stuff.


	8. Chapter Six, Part Two

Chapter Six, Part Two:

Cough Syrup

"_Life's too short to even care at all."_

In the twenty-seven years, verging on twenty-eight, years of his life, Tucker Foley had seen a number of unusual things. To him, the abstract was every day and the unusual commonplace. He was accustomed to the strange and if it had taught him anything, it was that there was no such thing as coincidence.

Especially when it involved children disappearing.

When the chemistry accident first happened, the event that robbed Danny and thirty other innocents of their lives, Tucker had been suspicious.

Sure, accidents were bound to happen; but of that magnitude? And in Amity Park?

While the town and his friends mourned, Tucker poured himself into research, desperate for an answer.

He searched for months with varying degrees of success. He spent hours in the library, scavenging the Internet, and even confronting the ghosts. But the ghosts that Tucker actually managed to confront (an incredibly and unsurprising small number), were just as baffled.

Eventually after much pleading from Jazz, Tucker finally put away his research. He began to focus more on high school and eventually college, tracking down ghosts in his spare time.

It was just him and Jazz at that point; Sam had already fled with her tail between her legs.

She didn't even bother to tell them when her daughter was born.

And so as Sam lived it up in New York with her new family and friends, Tucker and Jazz struggled to help keep the ghost situation under control. Somewhere along the way, both graduated, got jobs, and fell in love.

Sam's return had, unfortunately, put a bit of a damper on things.

The pair had gotten along just fine without her, and her return only conjured darkened memories. But they adapted, assigning their former friend a role in their ghost hunting. They got by, were building back their relationship.

Until another chemistry accident occurred, identical to the last. Only this time it wasn't Danny who was stolen, leaving behind an entire town, but rather Sam. Sam, who had a precious daughter; a daughter who would now be left on her own.

No, Tucker didn't believe in coincidence.

* * *

><p>She had imagined this moment so many times in her mind that now, being forced to come face to face with it, left her rather speechless.<p>

Sam was a very vocal individual. She had her opinions and, whether you wanted to listen or not, she would vocalize them at any opportunity possible. Raising Holly, Sam had learned to contain the urge to scream at the world; but left unbridled her temper was infamous – that was something that hadn't faded with time.

It took very little to set Sam off: someone tossing a cigarette to the ground, pollution, animal cruelty – anything with an activist behind it, Sam passionately supported.

Yet here she was. Silent.

Her students, her responsibility, had been kidnapped from the school. Parents all around Amity Park were likely in a tailspin as they mourned the loss of their children – some for the second time. But, they had to realize, didn't they? Recognize the similarities between this accident and the last. They were both chemistry classes, too! There was no possible way to deny the reality.

Deep down, though, Sam knew that the town would be so consumed with grief, no one would think twice about the accident. Amity Park was known for its bad luck – the accidents. Tucker and Jazz, of course, would likely recognize the pattern, but it could take weeks for them to trace it back to this "Association."

And then there was Holly to think about. Her daughter, alone and under the assumption that her mother was dead. Sam had faith in Tucker and Jazz; faith that they would take care of her daughter until her imminent return – because she was going back. What if they called Simon, though? Holly's father was a good man; he would accept the responsibility of Holly. He would take custody. Take her daughter to California.

No. That couldn't happen. They had only just settled in. She couldn't lose Holly. Wouldn't. Not ever.

"Sam?"

Her head snapped up, her eyes narrowing.

It was Danny.

"Sam, I'm sure this might come as a –"

"So it _was_ you the other night," she said, her arms folded over her chest. "I wasn't seeing things, was I?"

He shook his head, his lips pursed. "No. I didn't know what Lukas was planning, though. If I had, I would have warned you ahead of –"

"So this is where you've been all this time? Playing soldier for your little secret society while the rest of us thought, oh, you know, that you were _dead_. But, hey, who cares about your family and friends when you've got a cool new organization to play around in."

"It's not –"

"Isn't it, Danny? It's been _ten years._ Ten. Years. We thought you were dead!"

His eyes narrowed, and Sam swore she could see a flash of neon green. His long, pale fingers gripped the desk he was perched upon, frustration evident in his eyes. "I wouldn't expect you to understand, Sam," he sneered. "I heard you ran off to get married at the first chance you got. Didn't take you to long to move on, did it?"

She reeled back as though he had slapped her.

"How _dare _–"

"No," he interrupted. "You don't get to criticize me. I did everything within my power to keep this damn town safe, to keep _you_ safe – look where it got me. And then, this happened. I was stolen away and presumed to be _dead_. I was told that I could make something of the world; that I could make an actual difference with people who shared similar goals. Goals that were supposed to make the world a better place. And now you have the _audacity _to accuse me of being selfish!"

"You were! Did you ever stop to consider the crap you put your family through? Me? The last ten years haven't been easy for anyone, Danny!"

A bark of cruel laughter escaped from his laps. "Oh, trust me. I know. I know everything."

"How?"

"The perks of being best pals with an Informant. They know everything; you just have to ask the right questions," he said, the edge beginning to lift from his tone. He paused, seeming to collect his thoughts. "I'm sorry about what happened to your daughter," he finally said. "I'm glad she's better."

"You know about Holly?"

He let out a sigh, running a hand through his hair. A gesture that was so similar to the boy she had known and loved throughout the early stages of her life.

"I know a lot of things, Sam. I might not have been there, but that doesn't mean I wasn't aware of the basics of what was going on here. We occasionally have Runners that check up on towns that have been left beyond; they usually come back with a pretty good understanding of most of the citizens," he said.

"So what exactly is this Association then? And no BS; I've had enough of that for one night," she said, depositing herself in the uncomfortable looking chair beside the desk.

"I think that Olivia could explain better than I could," he said quietly, gesturing to the stern woman lounging on the sofa.

Sam shook her head, hair flying about her face. "No. I want to hear this from _you._"

He sighed, dropping his head into his hands.

"A long time ago," he began, "there was a man named Lukas. He had a vision for the future, a better future. In order to achieve this ideal world, he gathered together a group of brilliant minds. He took them, isolated them, and put them to work brainstorming this plan. But time passed, they were unsuccessful, and Lukas grew frustrated with their lack of progress. He declared that in order to get the blood moving, the ideas flowing, they would need to recruit.

"But Lukas was adamant that this group, this association, remain secret. So he began to look for the best and brightest minds, attempting to gather them together. And it worked for a while. As time went on, though, and their triumphs began to dwindle, Lukas grew more and more power hungry. So one of his advisers stumbled upon an idea: What if they went from school to school, scouting out the best and brightest; the most athletic and agile; the brains and the brawns.

"And he did. Eventually he decided that in order to continue he succession of control, he must bring in young minds. Separate them from their families worked perfectly – crush their hope, eliminate their options, and begin a new future.

"And it sounded so _good_. To have the opportunity to work for the progression of humanity? It would be such an _honor._

"But Lukas is power crazy. Bettering the world is no longer the point, but rather controlling it. Hence," and Danny gestured to himself and Olivia, "the rebellion was born."

Sam paused, running over his words.

Finally she spoke, her tone thoughtful. "Why not just leave?"

"We cannot," Olivia said from her corner on the sofa. "They would find us. And, if we even hold the slightest chance of stopping this fate for another generation, then it is our _duty _to take action."

Danny nodded.

"So, Sam… you with us?"

* * *

><p><strong>Author's Note<strong>: Um, can I just say I'm _really _sorry that this has taken so long to get out? Like, I'm really, really sorry. Can you find it in your wonderful hearts to forgive me? Honestly, I don't have a particularly valid excuse. Most of this was already written; it just needed the final portion that was being stubborn. Which I'm still working out how to continue because GAH, my planning is being stubborn. But it's okay. It's cool.

No, the real reason this has taken so freaking long is kind of something I couldn't control. First there were finals (*shudders*), then senior activities, then graduation, then road tripping it, and then, finally, I started work. (Speaking of, I have a nasty sunburn right now.) So I've been a little busy and this chapter was stubborn. The two did not co-mingle very well.

Thank you guys, if you're still here, for sticking around. And thank you for reviewing, **Jade of Silence, Elle Aitch, TiFu, Fluehatraya, Kitty in Boots, Oak Leaf Ninja, Chop Suzi,** and **ShadowDragon357**. You guys rock my socks.

And to future reviewers? Your review will be like my Aloe Vera. I need it desperately and it's so wonderful when it finally sinks in.

Thanks again for reading (and being patient with me) and don't forget to review. Peace. - Inky


	9. Chapter Seven

Chapter Seven:

_"A broken heart will turn into a stronger one within hope."_

_- **Toba Beta ******_

"Tucker, I'm worried about her."

"Jazz, she just lost her mother. It's normal for her to be like this. She just needs time."

"She's been through so much already; it's not fair. When is Simon getting here again?"

There was a pause.

"Early next week. He said it was the quickest he could get a plane out here."

"I just wish he was here. I love her, but she needs her dad."

"I know, Jazz. He'll be here soon."

Holly rolled her head to the side, shutting her eyes tightly. Her mom had always jokingly encouraged her eavesdropping, saying that was how she survived as a teenager. Holly had always made a point to always listen to her mother's advice (well, usually), but in this case, she was willing to make an exception. It hurt too much to listen further, to listen to the reminders of everything she had lost.

In her short life, Holly had lived through a lot. Her teachers and friends thought that that sometimes made her fragile, but in reality, it had only made her strong. At a very young age, Holly had accepted that sometimes life sucked. She just never thought it would have the audacity to take her mother away after everything else.

Her mom had always been there for her as long as she could remember. She was there throughout the Chemotherapy, the recovery, and the insignificant little bumps in between. Even when her daddy was forced to move away, her mom had been there beside her the entire time.

And now she wasn't.

Holly loved Tucker and Jazz, she did. And she loved her daddy more than life itself. But her mom was gone now and she wasn't coming back.

And it broke her heart.

* * *

><p><em>"So, Sam... you with us?"<em>

She bit her lip, running a hand through her hair. _A secret society? A rebellion? _

"Danny, I –"

Her words were cut off by a sudden exhalation from Danny. _His ghost sense._ She looked at him, eyes wide.

He turned from her, shoulders tense. "Livia," he said quietly. "Would you mind checking on Star for me? Tell her that I'm calling a meeting for the Guards in an hour."

Olivia stood, Sam's eyes following her as she made her exit from the room.

As soon as the door closed, Danny slouched back in his chair with a heavy sigh.

"Danny?" Sam said hesitantly. "Aren't you going to go get the ghost?"

He shook his head, pulling out a phone from his back pocket. "No. You guys have taken care of the ghost situation for this long; it wouldn't do well for me to show up again. I'm staying out of the public eye as much as possible until we're gone."

She stared at him, fists clenched.

"You've got to be kidding me," she snarled. "You _know _there's a ghost and you're still going to let your friends and family deal with it? Possibly get hurt?!"

"They've managed just fine without me for the last ten years; I trust that they'll still be fine," he said, rolling his eyes. "It's senseless to jump back into action now - it'll only add suspicion."

She stared at him, her eyes wide.

"You've got to be kidding me," she murmured. "You're unbelievable."

She'd spent years of praying for his return, for the day she'd see those sparkling blue eyes again. And yet here he was, before her now, and instead of euphoria, she merely felt loathing and contempt at the imposter before her.

"No, Sam, you are."

He stood from his chair, reaching forward to rummage in the desk drawers. "You only ever wanted me to be the hero; that's all you ever saw in me after the accident. But guess what, Sam, I'm not your hero anymore. I have things to do, people of my own to protect, and Amity Park can damn well take care of itself," he said cooly, pulling out a cigarette and lighting it.

"You know that's not true! Those people _need _you –"

"They haven't needed me for ten years! They've had Tucker and Jazz and my parents – hell, they've even had _Vlad._ Meanwhile I have other people to save, people that have no one else to look out for them," he snapped. "And you know what, you can give me all the shit you'd like about how I wasn't there for them, how I wasn't there for _you_, but your record isn't exactly crystal clear either, Sam. Where have you been? Off in New York. Gone. You escaped. So don't you _dare_ tell me that I have a responsibility to those people out there when you yourself couldn't even be bothered!"

His eyes were bright now, flashing to that familiar green that had haunted her dreams for so many years. One thing was for certain; his temper hadn't faded in the slightest.

The room was silent for a few moments.

"Look, Sam, think what you want, but I can't go out there, and neither can you. The sooner we get out of Amity Park the better. Tucker and Jazz can handle it – they'll be fine. Just…" he sighed, running a hand through his hair, "go get some sleep, okay?"

She nodded quietly, glancing over her shoulder at him, lacing her fingers together as she began her way down the hall. After all this time, all the waiting and hoping, it all came down to this. This shell of a man who had taken on the form of her best friend, her Danny, and replaced him with the callous leader; the man who put his goals above all else, without a care for the everyday citizen.

And it broke her heart.

* * *

><p>"Valerie, are you even paying attention?"<p>

The dark-skinned girl raised her head, a single brow quirked. "Of course I am, Star," she murmured. "You were ranting about Kwan again."

The blonde sniffed the air angrily, eying her friend skeptically. "Your ability to generalize is astounding, Valerie. And your listening skills? Top notch."

Valerie cringed, offering her friend a week smile. "Sorry, Star; I'm just a little distracted tonight. I promise, I'm listening."

"Forget it, Val, I've got to go anyway. Danny called a meeting for the Guards, and I have a few questions for him before we get started. Don't wait up," Star said, rising from her chair, her expression dark.

"There's a meeting tonight?" Valerie asked incredulously. "Isn't he supposed to clarify these things with me?"

"It's a security briefing, Val. No big deal. Besides, it's your week off; you're not supposed to worry about these things," Star said. She grabbed her jacket from the coat rack by the apartment door and offered a weak wave. "I'll be home later. Get some sleep, Val. We're worried about you."

And without another word, Star shuffled out the door and into the snow, leaving Valerie to stew in her thoughts.

Being in Amity Park again, seeing Sam… It was almost too much to take

For the last ten years, Valerie had striven to reach the highest position in The Wheel imaginable. Before the Incident, in her days as the Red Huntress, Valerie had made it a point to protect as many people as she possibly could. Safety above all else, she would tell herself as she patrolled the skies, Ecto gun positioned on her shoulder. And, if she ran into Phantom, well, she could call it a good night.

The structure of Valerie's life had been destroyed once by ghostly fiends, and she swore she would not allow it to happen to anyone else.

But then the Incident occurred and suddenly, Valerie was at a loss.

How could she protect the innocent from a world that had completely isolated itself from society? The aptitude tests arrived shortly after and she was positioned as a Guard and suddenly, everything fell into place.

As a Guard she could keep her peers safe, could protect them from the dangers the outside world presented. And as a Protector? The possibilities would be endless.

She worked day in and day out, striving for that promotion. Eventually the day came and she ascended into the ranks, prepared to make a difference where others had not.

And now that there was the possibility that she might lose her position, fall back into the ranks

_helpless_

she _had _to do something.

Danny didn't seem to care; seemed as if he'd rather be demoted than continue to serve under Lukas, but Valerie couldn't see it that way. Refused to.

Lukas had provided her the tools to create change, and she would not let him down.

Even if it meant making sacrifices along the way.

She knew that Star was worried about her and she could see the concerned looks that Danny frequently sent her way. But they didn't understand. Couldn't.

She had a job to do, and it didn't matter who stood in her way. Star was her best friend and Danny? Well, she didn't know what he was exactly. She knew that seeing his reunion with Sam had caused an unfamiliar twinge in her chest. Danny had helped her throughout the years, had been her rock, and seeing him reunite with his former best friend? Valerie was unprepared for the ache that stemmed from seeing them together.

But she knew she couldn't let _Sam Manson, _of all people, destroy all that she had worked for.

Even if it meant hurting Star, hurting Danny.

And it broke her heart.

* * *

><p><strong>Author's Note: <strong>This chapter was the biggest pain to write and, personally, I blame that on Sam. Hopefully from this point on, we can move away from Sam's yelling at the world trend, and actually push into some character development for her.

I know that there are probably a few grammatical/spelling errors in the chapter above, and I greatly apologize for them. I'm in a hurry to get the chapter posted, and while I think I got most of them, I'm sure a few slipped past the radar. (The offer still stands that if anyone is remotely interested in beta-ing Wheels in Motion, just let me know in a PM or a review. It would help greatly with actually managing to update on time.)

Speaking of updating... I'm terribly sorry that it's taken so long to get this chapter out, and I know it's not even tremendously long to make up for the wait. What can I say, the summer got away from me between work and getting ready for college. On that note, I'm not sure when I'll be updating again because I _move into my dorm tomorrow_. :D (I'm not excited at all, can't you tell?) Classes don't start for another week or so, so maybe I'll manage to crank out a really fast chapter. We'll see. :P

Thank you again to all you lovely reviewers! I can't express how much seeing your reviews means to me; seriously, you guys are unbelievably _fantastic_.

And thanks for being patient with me, for those of you who are still reading. Also, don't forget to review if you have the time! :)

Until next time. - Inky


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